


don't fix it if it's not broken (but broken's only a point of view)

by ljbrary



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano is a Sibling to the Clones, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Attempt at Humor, CT-7567 | Rex is So Done, CT-7567 | Rex is a Good Bro, Cad Bane & Ahsoka Tano, Detective Anakin Skywalker, Detective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Fluff, Gangs, Gangster Rex, Guns, Hondo Ohnaka & Rex, Kidnapping, Letta Turmond/Jackar Bowmani, Mentioned Ahsoka Tano, Mentioned Anakin Skywalker, Mentioned Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mentioned Torrent Company (Star Wars), Mirialans (Star Wars), Murder Mystery, Organized Crime, Pirates, Protective CT-7567 | Rex, Rex is so done, Snips - Freeform, Star Wars Modern AU, Street-Rat Ahsoka Tano, Tusken Raiders (Star Wars), Weequays (Star Wars), hondo is exhausting, skyguy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljbrary/pseuds/ljbrary
Summary: “Kid, I swear you’re going to take ten years off my life.”[or modern au where gangster rex takes street-rat ahsoka under his wing (and that often includes bailing her out of a cell). oh, and skywalker and kenobi are the new holmes and watson]
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Barriss Offee & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Hondo Ohnaka & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	1. don't fix it if it's not broken

**Author's Note:**

> another modern au: this one mentions/suggests violence but really not that bad

“Alright, Hondo. Last chance. Where’s the kid?”

The last possible thing Rex had wanted to be doing on his perfectly fine (as in, perfectly _uneventful_ — so far) Saturday, was hunt down the kid.

Why was he searching for her? Well, he wasn’t exactly sure himself — but he wasn’t about to admit that he was worried for her, having not seen her in a few days. Rex didn’t _do_ worried.

The Weequay, (as he and his gang had been dubbed), gracelessly swung one of the long braids adoring his hair out of his face. He let out a chuckle.

“My _, my,_ Captain. Always so _demanding_!” He cupped his lips with the back of his hand, lowering his strangely-accented voice into a mock-whisper. “I always _knew_ you would make a _stunning_ leader, my friend.” He rapped Rex on the chest with his free hand before straightening back up again.

“As for the girl, I seem not to know what you mean — though, I could be — how do you say -- _motivated --_ for a _price_...” He held his fingers up between them for emphasis, rubbing his forefingers and thumb together as his cruelly dark eyes glinted.

Rex scowled. He hated dealing with Ohnaka — the insufferable pirate was impossible to deal with (both literally and metaphorically), but unfortunately, he was also a reliable source of information (if paid the right price, that was). Also unfortunately, the only thing Rex had to barter with was his rising temper.

“Ohnaka, I’m not asking again.” Slowly, carefully, (but plainly obvious to the half-crocked man leaned against the alley wall in front of him), Rex placed a hand on his belt, discreetly sliding open his jacket to reveal the cool metal of a handgun tucked into his waistband. “Where’s the kid?”

The obscenely tan man’s eyes fluttered briefly down to where his hand rested, leisurely tapping a warning to be interpreted on the pitch-black grip, and he gulped.

“Oh, my, my. Friend! No need for such _hostilities_! I am in fact feeling rather generous today. I will tell you what I know, out of the _goodness_ of my heart.” He empathetically slapped a hand to his chest, bowing his head as though he were receiving a blessing. “No need to thank me, my boy.”

Rex nearly growled, but he managed to bite it back just in time, instead letting his jacket drop as his hand found his forehead and attempted to release the throbbing tension the pirate was creating.

In simple terms, Rex knew this is what the other boys referred to as a “ _Hondo Headache_ ” — and he couldn’t agree more with that assessment. He would be needing Advil, (and lots of it), by the end of the day.

“Just tell me what you know, Ohnaka. No games, no lies.”

Hondo let out such an exasperated gasp, that Rex had to make an effort to focus on his breathing — not on how good Hondo’s face connecting with his knuckles would feel.

“I — am — _insulted_! How _dare_ you make such an _egregious_ assumption, Captain! I have _never_ been so _offended_ in my life! When have I _ever_ been anything but _honest?_ ”

Rex raised an eyebrow. His hand went back to tapping a staccato on the grip of his handgun. Hondo stopped talking.

He shifted his weight back, dropping his affronted act.

“Alright, my friend. I will tell you what I know about your little friend.” He chuckled lowly, his ostentatious theatrics reigned in for the moment. “The detective — Skywalker, I think his name was — yes, yes, the one with Kenobi — hauled her in.”

Rex cursed vehemently. _Great_ , he thought. Now he’d have to deal with ' _the_ _Duo_ ,' as they had been dubbed in the underground and by the press alike.

He turned away from the pirate, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

_Really, kid?_ he thought, exasperated.

He turned back around. “What’d she —?”

Hondo held up his hand. “Before you ask, I do not know. But she went kicking and screaming, as she always does.” The pirate gave a knowing half-smile. It seemed the kid had even managed to worm her way into _Hondo Ohnaka’s_ heart — to a certain extent, at least.

“And this is where I make my exit! Goodbye friend, and I hope we do _not_ meet again, or else it will be too soon.” And with that, Hondo Ohnaka disappeared down the alley, taking the smell of spice and alcohol with him.

Rex kicked a stray rock. It hit the brick wall in front of him, the sound reverberating off the surrounding buildings.

_Great,_ he thought _. Just_ kriffing _fantastic._

Now, not only did he have a barely fourteen-year-old kid to track down, but he also had ‘ _the_ _Duo_ ’ to deal with.

And his biggest problem with that was that he knew them.

His even _bigger_ problem was that he _liked_ them.

He let out another puff of air, shaking his head when an unwarranted (fond) twitch of his mouth threatened to culminate.

“Kid, I swear” he said to the empty alley. “You’re going to take ten years off my life.”

(And not that he would admit it — but they were a willing ten years in the end.)


	2. and wouldn't it have been easier in the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re the one everyone talks about,” she found herself blurting. 
> 
> “Huh, that’s a new one — but it’s Skywalker, actually." 
> 
> [or street-rat!snips meets detective!skyguy --(and it's pretty safe to say they both find the other exasperating)]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was only supposed to have two chapters and was only supposed to be about ahsoka and rex but i couldnt help myself so i hope you dont mind some snips and skyguy action :)

“My darling, this would be much easier if you would just _cooperate_.”

Ahsoka Tano wrinkled her nose, turning her head away from the exasperated auburn-haired man seated in front of her. (And she found an odd sort of satisfaction in the way he heaved a long, tired sigh and massaged his forehead) — Ahsoka Tano was nothing if not stubborn, and she was happy to see these two obnoxious cops were finding that out the hard way.

“I told you — I _won’t talk_ .” She hissed, leaning forward to strain against the cuffs behind her back, digging uncomfortably into her wrists. (And _honestly_ , were they really necessary? She was five-one and less than a hundred pounds — she wasn’t exactly the prime build for a rough and quick escape.)

The detective — Kenobi, she’d heard someone call him — pursed his lips distastefully, one hand stroking his beard. 

“Young one,” his tone had turned stern, less of the patronizing one he had adopted earlier that had driven her crazy. “The longer you hold onto your pride, the harder this is going to be for you.”

Ahsoka scowled, pressing her lips tightly shut and turning defiantly away. The message was clear: _I’m not talking and you can’t make me_. 

The small, cold room was silent for a beat, and in the few moments of tension, Ahsoka became acutely aware of the hard wood of the chair against her shoulder blades; the cool, sharp metal of the cuffs chafing against her wrists; and the headache-inducing glare of fluorescent lights bathing everything in an eerie white, reflecting off the harsh glass on the other side of the room that she knew was a two-way mirror. (And she was suddenly very conscious of the fact that someone she couldn’t see was probably watching her — (she felt a stubborn shiver run down her spine; unwanted goosebumps decorate her exposed skin. She scowled harder.)

The suffocating silence of the tension snapped, and the shift of a jacket against a wall was caught from the peripheral of her vision. 

The other man — the young one who had been leaning against the wall in the corner, arms crossed and expression hard to read — had straightened, minutely meeting the eyes of Auburn-Hair (Kenobi, she reminded herself). 

Ahsoka watched the exchange through narrowed eyes, not missing the microscopic nod of Kenobi before he focused his attention back on her. 

“Well, my dear, it seems our time is up. I must be going, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your new friend’s company.” He stood, brushing not existent dust from his lap. Ahsoka's eyes tracked his movements as he made his way to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. 

“Do yourself a favor, young one, and answer the questions.” And with one last piercing blue gaze, he was gone. 

_As if_ , she thought, holding back a scoff. She wasn’t going to talk. She would _never_.

If growing up on the streets had taught her anything, it was that she just didn't _do_ that -- (and honestly, besides her own spite preventing her speech, the consequences of opening her mouth to these cops once she was released would not be worth it. So she was keeping her mouth sealed _tight_ ).

Not talking equaled _protection_ ; it meant that she was trustworthy and worth the effort -- (or _not_ worth the effort, in some ways [bad ways]) -- if Ahsoka was in some way convicted of _something_ and sent to jail, if she hadn’t opened her mouth, therefore protecting someone, then odds were that that ' _someone'_ had a friend in there that would protect her. (And she remembered what happened to Ziro, the slimy Hutt who had rattled off an impressive list of names to avoid prison -- Ahsoka decided to keep her mouth _shut_.)

Her eyes darted back to the corner as the brown haired man, (the man who’s name and description she had heard whispered breathlessly on street corners or in back rooms and undergrounds), began to move with ease, leisurely plopping down into the seat that had just been vacated by Kenobi. 

Brown-Hair leaned forward, elbows resting crossed on the table as he studied her inquisitively. Ahsoka leveled her best glare at him. She found his startling blue eyes, swirling with some unknown emotion, unnerving; intimidating — (she _knew_ those eyes; had seen the same kind of recklessness reflected in alleyways and underground establishments; had seen the same kind of look on _Rex_ ) — it made her uneasy (not that she would let him know that, though). 

“You’re the one everyone talks about,” she found herself blurting, if not only because she talked when she was nervous, and this man undoubtedly had that effect — and then she silently cursed herself. 

_Nice going, Tano. Not two minutes where all he’s done is stare at you and you’re already talking._

_Shut up,_ she told herself. 

She wrinkled her nose again. The man raised his eyebrows. 

“Huh, that’s a new one — but it’s Skywalker, actually,” he said with a shrug. 

“I know,” Ahsoka found herself saying (she didn’t, but _Skywalker_ didn’t need to know that). 

Skywalker raised his eyebrow again. “Well, you certainly seem to know a lot of things that you aren’t letting on today, don't you? Does Thursday night ring any bells?” Ahsoka stiffened with a glare. “Cad Bane? Jackar Bowmani? Tusken Raiders? What about Barriss Offee?”

Each name hit her like a bullet, and Ahsoka’s mind raced. How did he know so much? She hadn’t even said anything! She'd _sworn_ to Rex her lips would always be sealed (not to mention she now had Letta Turmond, Cad Bane, and an assortment of Mirialans and Tusken Raiders on her case about it) -- but somehow they already _knew_. 

Ahsoka forced her face to blank — a perfect poker face that had become invaluable after years on the streets. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who’s Barriss?”

_Who’s Barriss? Nice one, Tano. Barriss would probably laugh at you for that one._

She could almost see Rex’s grimace. (“ _See kid —_ that _is how you get arrested.”)_

But her mind was still racing — how was she going to get out of this one? Barriss would probably know how. Though from the looks of things, the Mirialan member had her own problems with the authorities to deal with; Ahsoka was on her own (much like she always was). 

_(“Just relax, Ahsoka — you can’t tell them what you don’t know.”_

_Ahsoka furrowed her brows. “But Barriss, I_ do _know!”_

_Barriss stopped walking, set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “But Ahsoka,” she said, “they don’t_ know _you know.”_

_She disappeared down the alley with a wink.)_

_They don’t know you know._

Well, to Ahsoka, it seemed like Skywalker _did_ know she knew. She scowled again, meeting his imploring gaze head on with a glare. 

“Huh, you sure you don’t know Barriss?” He tilted his head, a mock look of confusion on his face, “I was under the impression you two are friends — well, I guess maybe it’s more of a ‘ _were_ friends,’ now.”

They stared at each other for a beat, before Ahsoka's mind caught up with her ears, and her blood ran cold at his implications. 

_No, oh no._

What in the world was he on about? Barriss wouldn’t have talked! She _couldn’t have_. 

Ahsok shook her head mutely, reeling. Icy tendrils spread down her spine, cool fingers threading through her skin and slipping around her closed throat, preventing speech. She stared hard at the table, eyes hot as she bored into the dark wood. 

He was wrong. He _had_ to be.

(But was he?)

(“ _Don’t forget, Ahsoka — we’re always going to be on our own out here. You can’t trust anyone but yourself, alright?”_

_She lifted Ahsoka's chin, deep blue eyes boring imploringly into her own._

_“Why not?” She asked. Honestly, Barriss was overreacting! The world wouldn’t be_ that _harsh. A friend was a friend, no matter what — just like Barriss and Ahsoka._

_Barriss just patted her on the head. “I hope you never have to understand why, Ahsoka. It’s just easier — to not care, I mean — when you’re let down.”_

_Ahsoka nodded sagely, watching Barriss’s silhouette fade into the harsh light of a street lamp before frowning._

_She didn’t understand — she didn’t want to live her life in ‘halves’ — half of caring about someone, and then half of not caring at all in case they let her down._

_She shook her head. She didn’t need to do that with Barriss — Barriss was alone, just like her. They would stick together.)_

_I hope you never have to understand why, Ahsoka._

And now, the hard wood of a chair digging into her shoulder blades; harsh metal of cuffs chafing against her wrists; and the only thing keeping Ahsoka from drowning in the icy burn coursing through her blood, bubbling just under her skin, was the swirling patterns on the dark wood of the table — and so she trained her burning eyes on the wood, clamping down all the racing thoughts in her mind. And now, Ahsoka wished she never had to understand why, either — And Barriss was _right_ ; it would’ve been a lot easier. 

And although every semblance of logic in Ahsokas bones was confirming it — she still couldn’t viscerally believe it with her whole self. 

Ahsoka swallowed hard and lifted her head, steeled determination overpowering heart-wrenching numbness. 

She grit her teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spit out, acidic. “Who’s Barriss?”

Skywalker’s eyes narrowed. “You aren’t fooling anyone,” he told her. 

Ahsoka stared right back at him. “I’m not trying to,” she said, straight-faced. 

Skywalker studied her a moment, eyes narrowed in thought, before reaching down to the ground beside him. 

Curious, Ahsoka straightened slightly — as much as she could with both her hands cuffed behind her back — and watched as he pulled out out —

_A folder?_

Skywalker slapped the folder onto the table between them, spinning it around to face her as he opened it, and her own wide, blue eyes stared straight up at her from a photo paper-clipped to the top. 

She blinked in surprise. 

“Here’s the deal, kid,” he began, casual, but business like all the same. Ahsoka unconsciously found herself sitting straighter. 

“We know you and Barriss Offee know each other. We know you’ve been affiliated with Cad Bane —“ Ahsoka scowled. She _hated_ Bane. Always had, but even more so after he had kidnapped her — (“ _unwilling guest, girlie_ ”) — because, well, that was a story for another time. (A story involving much cursing, biting — “ _try that again, girlie, and I’ll rip your teeth out!_ ” — and a _very_ angry Rex; but she digressed). “— and we know you were on the scene at the time of Jackar Bowmani’s death.”

At the word _death_ , Ahsoka's back hit the hard wood of the chair like she had been blown backward, her breath _gone._

Distantly, she heard harsh breathing echo through her skull. 

_Jackar Bowmani’s death_. 

Ahsoka had been there, alright. _Too_ there, for her taste. Her face still stung from the blow to her cheek, and she vividly remembered a dirt riddled ground greeting her, and an ear-piercing scream that had rattled her ears more than her skull hitting the floor. 

Vaguely, she realized Skywalker was still talking. “— aren’t exactly sure where the Tuskens fit into all this, but we know it’s the big piece we’re missing.” Ahsoka swallowed the urge to sob, anger at being weak filling its place. If Skywalker noticed anything was wrong, he didn’t let on. Instead, he leaned forward, his pointer and middle fingers tapping the file in between them, right on the picture-Ahsoka's tan forehead. “That’s where _you_ come in.”

Ahsoka stared at him. “Me,” she said hollowly, still reeling from Barriss and Jackar and the throbbing anew in her skull, like the memory was worse than the blow had been in the first place.

Skywalker leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re the link,” he told her, nodding his chin in her direction. “The fulcrum of this case. You’re the one that connects all the pieces.” 

_The fulcrum of this case_. 

Ahsoka leaned back in her chair, head throbbing from the fluorescent lights and dirty floor from two days ago, and cheek stinging from the stubbornly unfaded bruise that, last she had seen, had turned an ugly green. 

She closed her eyes against the lights; against the piercing, analytical blue eyes in front of her. 

“Oh,” she said, tilting her head back in exhaustion. “Well, that sounds like a _you_ problem.”

A beat of silence where she could feel his piercing eyes on her; then the rustle of paper; the shift of a jacket, and she peeked one eye open experimentally. 

Skywalker had reached across the table to pick up her file. Curious, Ahsoka tilted her chin back down, cracking open her other eye to focus on the young detective in front of her. 

He placed the file back down beside him, turning once more to meet Ahsoka's skeptical gaze. 

“Look, kid,” he began, and Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Your friend Barriss gave us a decent amount of intel — but we only have the pieces; now, we just need the glue.”

Ahsoka scoffed. If her hands weren’t bound, she would have no doubt crossed them. “Look, _Skyguy_ ,” she spit — she found immense satisfaction in the way he bristled, bewildered. 

“ _Skyguy_?”

Ahsoka barred her teeth in a feral sort of grin, toxically happy to have irked him. _Serves him right_ , she thought. 

“Yeah, _Skyguy_ ,” she shot back. “I don't know how thick your skull is, but I’m not going to talk.”

Skywalker scoffed. “Hey, now — don’t get _snippy_ with me, young one —“

“I’ll get _snippy_ with whoever I want!” Ahsoka practically shrieked. “I’m not talking and you can’t make me!”

Skywalker’s mouth flew open, ready to make a quick and fiery retort — but soon seemed to think better of it, instead blowing a harsh breath out through his nose. 

“Alright, _Snips_ ,” he snapped, and Ahsoka bristled. 

_Snips_?

“You’re an enigma right now, I’ll give you that. You’ve got the figurative high ground, but it won’t last long. You really think your buddies in your gang are gonna come to your rescue?” He asked, obviously rhetorical. “How’d that work out with Offee?”

Ahsoka’s stomach clenched; chest tightening — but mercifully, she managed to keep her face blank and her voice monotone. 

“I’m not in a gang.”

She was telling the truth — she wasn’t in a gang. Sure, she was practically an honorary member, but that really wasn’t how things worked. She was a loner; the occasional friend or ally — (though, Skywalker was right in that regard — _see how well Barriss worked out?_ ) — but she was an in-between; (which was why she was either the safest person or the most vulnerable one; which was why she had even _witnessed_ the death of Jackar Bowmani, and almost not been allowed to walk away). 

She was snapped back to the present by Skywalker’s comically raised eyebrows. He seemed more surprised than he should have been by her admission, (and she inwardly cursed herself for giving away the information, assuming they had already known). 

( _“Never assume, little ‘un — but if you do, assume the worst,” Rex had intoned, gripping her shoulder softly.)_

_Nice going, Tano._

_Shut up_ , she told herself.

Skywalker leaned forward, intrigued,. “What about Torrent Company?” He demanded. “Intel has you down as one of them.”

Ahsoka itched to cross her arms. “Tell your _intel_ they need new sources. No, I’m not in their gang — but I’m not handing any of them over to you either, so don’t even ask,” she snapped. 

Skywalker crossed his arms, studying her with a new kind of curiosity; like the windshield of a car had just been cleared off — and with heart stopping anxiety, Ahsoka realized she had just given him another crucial piece to the puzzle. She bit back a rather lewd curse. 

_Nice going, Tano._

This time, she didn’t tell herself to shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! :)


	3. and i guess (hope) the shoe fits, with a little intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Obi-Wan, this is a piece that we’ve been missing! Offee gave us the outline; the skeleton -- but she’s the rest; the organs and the skin and the blood; the heart.”
> 
> Obi-Wan shot Anakin an incredulous look. “Well, that is certainly one way to put it, Anakin. Though, your analogies never cease to amaze me.”
> 
> [or anakin's analogies are... well, i'll let you decide, and obi-wan ponders the two young enigmas in his presence]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short one today because ive got an english paper due tomorrow that i havent started and ive had tests and exams all this and last week so sleep is looking pretty good to me right now :)

Detective Obi-Wan Kenobi looked up as the familiar sound of a door opening greeted his ears. 

Anakin Skywalker practically flew into the room, slapping a manilla folder down onto the table in front of Obi-Wan with such enthusiasm, it went sliding off the other end.

“ _ She’s not in a gang _ ,” he said, excited. 

Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought, mind racing at the implications. “Yes, Anakin. Believe it or not, but I heard.” He fixed his eyes on the two-way mirror, choosing to ignore the eyeroll of his partner, and instead studying the small enigma on the other side that seemed to have caused them much more trouble than was worth. 

“Obi-Wan, this is a piece that we’ve been missing! Offee gave us the outline; the skeleton -- but she’s the rest; the organs and the skin and the blood; the  _ heart _ .”

Obi-Wan shot Anakin an incredulous look. “Well, that is certainly one way to put it, Anakin. Though, your analogies never cease to amaze me.”

Anakin glared at him. Obi-Wan just turned his attention back to the girl who was intently studying the table in front of her, swinging her feet in a way that made her seem achingly innocent, belied by the ugly bruise swelling green against her cheek. (What she found so interesting about the surface would remain a mystery to Obi-Wan.)

He heard an annoyed huff from beside him. “Why are you not as excited about this as I am, Obi-Wan? This is good!”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard. _ Leave it to Anakin to go rushing into things. _ “But was she lying? _Think_ , Anakin,” he implored.

To Obi-Wan’s surprise, Anakin scoffed. Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows.

“ _ Of course she might be lying _ ,” he dismissed exasperatedly with a wave of his hand. “She’s lied about everything else so far.” He leaned his weight onto one hand, braced against the table as he leaned toward Obi-Wan, gesturing with his free hand animatedly. “But this just makes too much  _ sense _ for it to  _ not _ be true -- besides, did you see her reaction? She didn’t mean to say it.”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips. As usual, Anakin’s instincts were on point. 

“Just _trust_ _me_ , Obi-Wan. I have a _feeling_. Think about it;” he pressed. “She wasn’t supposed to be there when it happened -- it’s a wonder she’s still alive as it is; it’s probably how she got that bruise. We know both the Tuskens and the Mirialans are involved, and we know Cad Bane has his hand in this somehow -- but Torrent? They weren’t supposed to, and now I guess they don’t, because she’s not even a member. It makes sense -- I bet a ton of people want her dead right now, which makes her even more important.” He had begun to pace the room, but as he finished, he turned back to Obi-Wan, hopeful.

What he was saying made perfect sense, and Obi-Wan sighed. When Anakin had a feeling, it was best to listen to it. 

He eyed his partner. “Alright Anakin,” he conceded. “We’ll follow your hunch.”

Anakin grinned sharply. “Thanks, Obi-Wan. You won’t regret this!”

Obi-Wan sighed internally.  _ I do hope I won’t, Anakin. _

He turned his inquisitive gaze back to the small teen on the other side of the glass.  _ Strange _ , he thought,  _ how someone so small her feet don’t even touch the ground from her chair has become such a big part of this case _ . 

He stroked his beard. Behind him, the door slammed shut as Anakin raced from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! :)


	4. but a lie is a truth in its own right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at him. “What makes you think I’ll tell the truth?” she asked suspiciously.
> 
> Skywalker leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms smugly. “I’m not convinced you’ll tell the truth, Snips -- I’m convinced you’re going to lie.”
> 
> [or anakin's interrogation methods are much like his analogies: exasperating. oh, and ahsoka thinks that if she weren't in handcuffs, she would want to strangle him]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright here's a long one to make up for the short one from last time
> 
> [warnings: mentions of violence/death (nothing too graphic) so just be mindful !!]

Ahsoka glared at the two-way glass in front of her (honestly hoping that there was someone behind it, otherwise she would look like a complete idiot.)

It had been at least an hour since Skywalker, seemingly delighted, had rushed from the room. After that, she had been left alone. (And if she was being honest, she really had to pee). 

A sharp sound of a door unlocking, shattering the silence that had enveloped her, made her jump. Skywalker walked into the room, carrying with him a dozen manilla folders. Ahsoka grit her teeth. It was looking to be a long day ahead yet.

“Alright, Snips,” he snarked as he plopped the teeming pile of folders gracelessly between them and took his seat, manilla files splaying out between them. Ahsoka glared at him. “We’re gonna play a little game.”

She glared. _Like hell we are._

“It’s called _True_ or _False_.” He gave her a grin. She didn’t return it. 

She grit her teeth as he folded his hands together on top of the scattered pile of folders. At her dubiously annoyed look, his crooked smile grew.

“Tell you what, Snips,” he told her congenially. “Answer five questions, and you’re free to go.”

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at him. “What makes you think I’ll tell the truth?” she asked suspiciously. 

Skywalker leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms smugly. “I’m not convinced you’ll tell the truth, Snips -- I’m convinced you’re going to _lie_.”

Ahsoka glared at his dancing eyes. 

“Here’s the catch, kid. You don’t know how much _we_ know, so you don’t know when we _know_ you’re lying.”

Ahsoka’s hands felt numb -- and it wasn’t from the cuffs biting into her skin. 

(And all too suddenly, she was beginning to realize why this man's epithets and stories had become whispers flying around the underground world like a match lighting a fuse; why his reputation so preceded him.)

A moment of silence, and Skywalker leaned forward again, crossed arms resting on the table. “First question,” he said. “You were in Jackar Bowmani’s underground Thursday night.” 

_True._

( _A cold grip on her arm jerked her behind a wall; crushing her into the small space between the main room and the back hallway._

_“Ahsoka!” A voice hissed into her ear, dragging her farther away from the dim room beyond their little nook. “What are you doing here!”_

_Ahsoka, surprised, attempted to wrestle her arm free, before recognizing the voice in her ear. “Barriss?”_

_“You’re not supposed to be here, Ahsoka,” Barriss told her grimly. “It isn’t safe. If Turmond recognizes you, you’re done for.”_

_Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Relax, Barriss. They don’t need to know that I’m here. I’m simply… observing, is all.”_

_Barriss fixed her with an unamused look, eyes narrowed. “You mean_ spying _,” she accused._

_Ahsoka grinned. “Well, ears are meant for listening, Barriss,” she said. At her friend’s glare she continued, only slightly offended. “Hey, I’m doing Denal a favor! I need some dirt on Bane, and got word of something going down here tonight. Besides,” she shrugged, “ I may even learn something more, by the looks of things -- who knows?”_

_Barriss scowled. “You’re in over your head, Ahsoka. I’d get out of here while you still can -- it’s not worth it.” She paused, studying Ahsoka with her deep blue eyes. “How’d you get in here, anyway? We had a Tusken at the door.”_

_Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. She had indeed seen the Tuskens at the door, and dismissed it as a coincidence. The part Ahsoka was caught up on was the_ ‘we _.’_ Tuskens? What are Mirialians doing with Tuskens of all people? _She peered past Barriss, and sure enough, the hard to miss garbs that all the Sand People, as they had been dubbed, seemed to wear were ever present amongst those tensely mingling._

_Distractedly, she waved a hand in Barriss’s direction. “Windows aren’t just for watching, Barriss,” she told her, finally turning back to her friend with a cocky grin._

_Barriss didn’t grin back.)_

She pressed her lips shut tight, met Skywalker’s eyes with a fiery look of her own, and leaned backward in her chair. The message, for the second time that day, was clear: _I’m not talking and you can’t make me._

Skywalker, although seemingly undeterred, crossed his arms (a liberty alluding Ahsoka at the moment, with her shoulders starting to ache from the strain of the uncomfortable position).

“Alright,” Skywalker conceded. “Let’s start simple. True or False, your name is Ahsoka Tano.”

_True._

( _“Woah!”_

_“Grab her!”_

_“Get the kid!”_

_Ahsoka Tano flung out of her hiding spot, aiming the dull point of a switchblade at the back of one of the men who had intruded upon her alleyway. She snarled, darting around the hands that had reached out to grab her, driving her blade low, right into the calf of a brown-haired man who yelped, reflexively kicking her away._

_She landed sprawled on a cardboard box a few feet away, blade still in hand from where it had been wrenched abruptly out of the man's leg._

On your feet! _She told herself._

_She leapt up once more, baring her teeth and leaping toward the blond-haired one -- but as she aimed the bloody blade toward him, he caught her wrist in a vice-like grip. Ahsoka yelped, blade falling from her grasp as her wrist was twisted awkwardly._

_“Kid! Calm down!”_

_“No!” she spit out, harshly pulling at her arm, frantic. “Leave me alone!”_

_“Kid!” Blond-Hair said imploringly. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”_

_Ahsoka, resolve weakening the more fruitless her attempts to wrench herself free were, began to slow. She stood, tense, eyes narrowed in distrust at the man holding her wrist._

_“Let me go.”_

_Surprisingly, her arm was released. Ahsoka’s eyes widened, before she quickly scooped up her blade, pointing it at the man who had kneeled down to be at her height as she cautiously backed away._

_“What do you want?” she asked vehemently, suspicious._

_The corner of Blondie’s mouth turned up slightly. “We need someone small. Word on the street is you're resourceful, especially for a nine year old.”_

_Ahsoka bristled. “I’m ten!”_

_Blondie’s mouth twitched again. “Even better,” he paused, studying her, before saying, “My name is Rex.”_

_Ahsoka kept her eyes narrowed, switchblade up. “What’s it to me?”_

_Blondie -- Rex -- raised an amused eyebrow. “You got a name, kid?”_

_Ahsoka hesitated. Rex waited expectantly, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. Ahsoka studied him inquisitively. He’d said he needed someone small, but resourceful. Well, Ahsoka was certainly_ small _, and she could do_ resourceful _. Slowly, the blade lowered._

_“Ahsoka,” she said. “Ahsoka Tano.”)_

Ahsoka hesitated, warring over her conscience. Obviously, they already knew this. This wouldn’t harm anything, right? But still, she didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of her breaking. But ever more persistently, Skywalker’s words from just moments ago echoed in her skull.

_Tell you what, Snips; answer five questions, and you’re free to go._

This one surely wouldn’t hurt, could it?

“True…” she said slowly, eyes narrowed, suspicious.

Skywalker grinned; Ahsoka’s stomach sunk, and she glared right back.

“Good job, Snips. Four to go.”

She pursed her lips, eyeing him.

“True or false; you were on the scene at the time of Jackar Bowmani’s death.”

_True._

_(“Letta, you must trust me. We cannot agree to this foolishness. Tusken Raiders cannot be trusted to keep their word!”_

_Ahsoka stopped, intrigued. Carefully, slowly as to not make a sound, she crept around the corner, back pressed to the wall as she made out the unmistakably deep voice of Jackar Bowmani._ What are Turmond and Bowmani doing with Tusken Raiders?

_“Quiet, Jackar!” The severe accent of Letta Turmond flowed out of the hidden nook and into Ahsoka’s ears. “You must trust me. Tensions are rising; we need protection!”_

_Ahsoka frowned. Tensions rising? Well, she supposed they weren’t wrong. Rex seemed more stressed lately, and a few weeks back, a few Felucians had gotten into it with some of Hondo’s pirates -- but that spat had been over and done with quickly. Though Bowmani’s saloon was in dangerous territory, she’d give them that. Had tensions really been rising that much? She would talk to Rex next time she saw him; he would know what to do._

_“You don’t understand, Jackar,” Letta hissed. “I will do what must be done.”_

_A beat of silence, and Ahsoka strained her ears. “And what is it that must be done, Letta?” She barely heard Jackar whisper._

_“Something unforgivable.”_

_Ahsoka’s blood ran cold, but she didn’t know why. Quickly, she slipped out of the back hallway and into the throngs of people in the outer room, hoping to go unnoticed. She stood to the side, but watched suspiciously as four Tuskens, followed by two more Mirialans slipped unacknowledged (probably not unnoticed) into the back hallway Ahsoka had just vacated._

_Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. Suddenly, it was starting to seem like a good idea to coincidentally make her way back into the very same hall. Carefully, she slipped into the shadowed walkway, quietly following the sound of footsteps and arguing voices._

_“Turmond! Your end of the bargain! Pay your dues.” The dark voice of a Tusken seemed to fill even the shadows of the hall._

_Ahsoka peered around the corner, nerves on edge as she watched the exchange._

_“I am prepared,” Letta spoke dismissively, waving her hand. “Get on with it.”_

_Jackar Bowmani frowned. His good eye not-scarred-over narrowed, brows furrowing. “Get on with what?” He demanded. “Letta, what is the meaning of this?”_

_Letta turned toward her husband, and Ahsoka thought she saw a hint of something akin to grief on her face. “I am sorry, Jackar. This is the only way.”_

_Jackar searched her face, wary confusion and panic drawing the lines on his face tight._

_“What did you do?” he whispered. Letta turned away._

_At that moment, two of the Tuskens surged forward, each grabbing onto the arms of Jackar._

_He jerked away, but it was useless._

_“What did you do?!” His deep voice bellowed. Ahsoka shivered. Jackar Bowmani was a soft spoken man -- to hear him shout put her already-tingling nerves on edge. What was going on?_

_Unfortunately, she’d find out soon enough.)_

Ahsoka kept her lips sealed.

“I don’t know why you thought this was going to work,” she told him, shaking her head. “I’m not talking.”

Anakin ignored her. “Where’d you get that bruise?”

“That’s not a true or false.”

Anakin remained undeterred. “Fine. True or false; you got that bruise on Thursday night in Bowmani’s saloon.”  
  


_True_.

_(A harsh jerk of her arm, and suddenly Barriss was right next to her, panicked._

_“You can’t be here!” She hissed, frantic. “Ahsoka, you need to go before you see something you can’t unsee!”_

_Ahsoka pulled her arm out of Barriss’s grip. “Barriss, what’s going on?” she demanded._

_Barriss shook her head, attempting to pull Ahsoka away from the back room. “You have to get out of here,” her voice shook with a frenzied sort of warning. “You have to leave,_ now _.”_

_Ahsoka scowled and shook her arm free. She opened her mouth to say something, but a harsh thud brought her attention back to the scene unfolding behind the wall. Ahsoka peered around the corner again -- just in time to catch the glint of metal reflecting dim lighting, and the fuming face of Jackar Bowmani glaring up at his wife._

_Ahsoka watched, horrified, ice-cold tendrils burning along her skin, as he was wrestled to his knees, the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his skull, and his wife’s final words to him._

_“I am sorry, Jackar, but this is what must be done. I hope you can forgive me.”_

_“Never,” Jackar Bowmani growled -- and Ahsoka belatedly recalled the unwarranted kindness of the man on his knees with a gun to the back of his head; how he had fed her when she was near starving; had hidden her from the Transoshans; had winked at her and poured her another glass when his wife hadn’t been looking; remembered warm hands and hot chocolate -- and vaguely, Ahsoka realized she wasn’t watching anymore._

_Barriss’s hand slipped away from her arm, and a shout slipped away from her lips._

_“No!” she screamed, darting forward. She couldn’t let him die! Not_ now _; not like_ this _! This was wrong!_

_Shocked panic rippled through the room, and Jackar’s surprised, quickly turning to panicked, eye met her own -- before a jarring shock rippled through her body, and her head hit the dirt-riddled floor -- and the guttural scream of Jackar, telling her to_ run _pierced her ears._

_An ear-shattering crack; Ahsoka’s cheek pressed into the dusty floorboards; and all she could see as Jackar Bowmani’s body hit the floor was dark red.)_

  
  


Ahsoka hesitated again -- a second too long, it seemed, because Anakin smirked. It took her half-a-second to realize why. She hadn’t needed to say anything to give him an answer -- her silence answered it for him. If she really hadn’t gotten it when he asked, then it was harmless enough information to simply correct him. But her problem was that she _had_ gotten it where he suspected, and in her bid to remain silent as to not tell the truth, she had told him everything he needed to know, anyway.

Ahsoka felt unwanted tears of frustration well up in her eyes, and she angrily forced them away. (She was _not_ crying.) She was tired, sore, hurting, and exhausted -- but she would not be _weak_. She steeled her frustration into a glare.

“I hate this game,” she said.

“That’s the point,” he told her.

Ahsoka closed her lips. Anakin sighed.

“True or false; you weren’t supposed to be there.”

_True_.

( _Ahsoka couldn’t breathe. She stared hollowly at the fractured remains of what used to be Jackar Bowmani’s skull; the endless ocean of crimson staining the backs of her eyelids._

_What had she just witnessed?_

_And as the crippling, stinging and shorting numbness slowly began to ebb away, Ahsoka realized she was going to throw up. She gagged, curling in on herself as voices echoed muffled around her. Retching, throat burning and stomach churning -- she realized there was nothing in her stomach to vomit._

_She didn’t get long to ponder it, though -- because strong hands wrapped her biceps in vice-like grips, and she was gracelessly hauled to her feet._

_Trembling, fighting back unwanted tears as her throat burned and mind spun ruthlessly, she wretched her eyes away from the dizzying sight of Jackar Bowmani’s corpse and to the hauntingly cruel eyes of a Tusken._

_“What do we have here?” Insidious and drawling, but darkly bordering a manic anger. Ahsoka’s blood ran cold, and her voice wouldn’t work._

_“I recognize you,” Ahsoka’s eyes darted to Letta, who stepped despicably around her husband's corpse, undeterred. “I have seen you talking with Jackar,” she said. “You are the one he wasted food on, are you not?”_

_Burning hot rage filled Ahsoka’s lungs, replacing the crippling panic and shock, as Letta gracelessly disparaged her husband dead at her figurative hands._

_She glared at Letta, eyes burning._

_Letta studied her, arms crossed. “Get Bane,” she ordered, turning to a scowling Mirialan. “He will know what to do with her.”_

_The Mirialan disappeared, and Ahsoka vaguely noted that Barriss was nowhere to be found. Good. She didn’t need Ahsoka’s idiocracy to get her in trouble, too._

_Sooner than Ahsoka had hoped, the despicable man, a member of Duros, had slinked into the room, hat tipped down as he strolled forward. “What’s this about a complication?” He demanded, glancing at the corpse. “He looks plenty dead to me --” then he looked up, and a sinister smile overtook his face._

_“Well, hello there, little lady -- long time no see.”_

_Ahsoka scowled, forcing herself to not glance down at the corpse, instead choosing the lesser of two evils and making eye-contact with Cad Bane’s heartless gaze._

_Letta turned sharply to him. “So you know her, then, Bane? Is she a threat?”_

_Cad Bane slinked his way over to Ahsoka, bony fingers slipping under her chin as he lifted it up. Ahsoka snarled at him, ripping her jaw away. Bane just chuckled._

_“Oh, yes. We have a bit of a history, don't we, girlie?” he asked. Ahsoka glared at him, clenching her jaw before sending a wad of spit straight into his eye. Bane snarled, swiping the spit off his face before surging forward in a bid of anger, his hand seizing her neck._

_Ahsoka choked, and he released his grip. “Didn’t you learn anything from the last time we met, little lady?” he hissed._

_Ahsoka coughed, gaining back her breath. “Didn’t you?” she snarled._

_Bane smiled cruelly, finally turning away and back to Letta._

_“Her name is Ahsoka Tano. Little brat if I ever knew one, but still… resourceful. Don’t underestimate this one.” He turned back to make eye-contact with a glaring Ahsoka. “She’s got sharp teeth.”_

_Ahsoka snarled._

_Letta studied her. “I say kill her; save us the trouble of her big mouth.”_

_Ahsoka’s heart -- which had been thudding painfully, so loudly she was sure the whole room could hear it -- abruptly stopped._

No. No no no no --

_“No.” Ahsoka’s head whipped around, staring incredulously at, of all people, Cad Bane._

What _?_

_“Too many strings attached,” he continued, one hand swirling in the air leisurely. “She belongs to Rex Jaig; Torrent’ll be after you if you so much as lay a finger on her -- though” -- he stepped closer to Ahsoka, fingers stroking the blossoming bruise on her cheek -- “I see that’s been a little unavoidable.”_

_Ahsoka bit at his hand, but he pulled away sharply -- (maybe he_ had _learned something from the last time they’d met)._

_“I don't belong to_ anybody _,” she snarled, attempting to wrench her arms free from their position trapped behind her back._

_Bane chuckled. “Tell that to Torrent, girlie. Maybe you’re not official, but anyone who touches you answers to Jaig -- I would know,” he told her, fingers gracing over a nasty scar on his cheek._

_She glared at him as he stepped closer again._

_“You weren’t supposed to be here, girlie. But you’re in luck -- you won’t be joining your friend Bowmani today, it seems.”)_

Ahsoka pressed her lips together. Skywalker leaned back in his seat.

“True or false; you're fourteen.”

_True_.

( _Letta Turmond scowled._

_“Are you sure it is best to keep her alive, Bane? We can’t have her talking.”_

_Ahsoka scowled._

_“Trust me, lady. She’s smart; she won’t talk.” He stepped closer to Ahsoka, leaning down into her face. His breath was sour as it brushed across her cheeks, and Ahsoka resisted the urge to gag. “She better not.”_

_Letta crossed her arms._

_“Trust me, Turmond -- she’s not worth having Jaig sicking Torrent on you. Besides, who would trust the word of a fourteen-year-old street-rat?”_

_Letta exchanged a look with a Tusken Raider, then begrudgingly nodded at Bane._

_“Fine. Get her out of here -- but make sure she doesn’t make a noise about this; keep an eye on her until this all blows over.”_

_Bane smirked. “Anything else?”)_

Ahsoka huffed. “True,” she said.

_Two -- three? -- out of five._

Skywalker smiled. “There you go Snips,” he said. “Three more to go.”

Ahsoka scoffed. “Two!” she snapped vehemently. 

Skywalker raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

Ahsoka shot him a look. “You know why. I may not have said anything, but I know you got your answer. Two.” She said again, lifting her chin defiantly.

Skywalker studied her, a slow, genuine, grin creeping up the corners of his mouth. “Alright, Snips,” he agreed. He leaned forward again, meeting her eyes. “Two.”

She held his gaze.

“True or false; the Tusken Raiders were involved.” He spit the name like vermin from his lips, and Ahsoka tilted her head, intrigued. 

She studied him, his eyes swirling with something just barely bridled. She narrowed her eyes. 

“You don’t like them,” she decided. 

Skywalker raised a brow. “Who does?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Fair point, but not what I meant. You have a history.”

Skywalker bristled, then grit his teeth. “Answer the question, Snips,” he snapped. 

Ahsoka leaned back, eyes narrowed. 

_True._

( _Ahsoka stepped leisurely out of the alleyway, trying her best to slink naturally into the swarms of people under the cover of darkness, making her way to Jackar Bowmani’s saloon._

_As she casually [with not-so-casual intentions], checked over her shoulder [this side of town was dangerous; especially at night], she recalled her earlier conversation with Denal, who had sought her out for her infamous history with a certain Duros._

_[_ “Got any dirt on Bane, kid?” He had asked, leaning against the wall beside her. 

Ahsoka, frowned, furrowing her brows in thought. She was tempted to inquire as to why he needed the information, but it was probably better not to ask. Finally, “Yeah, but nothing good,” she had told him. Then she grinned. “But I can get some,” she smirked, meeting Denal’s hopeful eyes.

Denal’s mouth had twitched upward. “I knew I could count on you, kid.”

Ahsoka had shot him a wink, then disappeared down the alleyway. _]_

_Now, as she approached Bowmani’s place, she smirked. She was excited to see what she could scrounge up on the insufferable man, and she hoped not to be disappointed._

_But as she approached the entrance to the establishment, her smirk faded, brows furrowing instead. There, apparent in the identifiable garbs of the Sand People, were none other than a couple Tusken Raiders leaned against the wall beside the door._

_Ahsoka quickly changed course, ducking into a nearby alley, and peeking around the corner at them._

_If Ahsoka knew anything, it was that Tusken Raiders were bad news. She vaguely wondered what the small group was doing here -- their territory was a couple blocks east -- but she shook it off. They were probably just minding their own business, and she should mind hers -- [except when it came to a certain Duros, that was]._

_Still, Rex’s words from way back when echoing around her brain gave her cause for hesitation._

_[_ “Look, kid,” he had said, hand resting on her shoulder. “You’re smart; resourceful -- but you don’t know the layout of the land yet.”

Ahsoka had furrowed her brows. 

Rex continued. “There are a few crucial things you need to know, and this one’s probably the most important: stay away from the Sand People,” he told her imploringly. “They’re bad news.”

Ahsoka had frowned. “Why?”

Rex had gotten a look in his eye that she knew meant it was not up for debate. He shook his head. “Trust me, little’un. Just steer clear of the Tusken Raiders -- I hope you don’t have to find out why the hard way.”]

Steer clear of the Tusken Raiders.

_Well, it looked like Ahsoka would be finding another way in._

_She searched the alley she was in, and sure enough, she found what she was looking for._

_“Well, windows aren’t just for watching, she murmured as she took one last look around the corner at the Tusken Raiders and slipped deeper into the adjacent alley.)_

Ahsoka kept her face blank, mouth shut. Anakin sighed.

“True or false; you associated with Jackar Bowmani and Letta Turmond.”

_True._

( _Ahsoka's heart was thudding painfully against her chest as she raced through the rain._

Stupid, stupid, stupid! _She should have been more careful._

Too late now! _She thought._

_Soaked and breathing heavily, Ahsoka sharply rounded a corner, whipping her head over her shoulder to check the progress of the Trandoshans behind her —_

Smack!

_Ahsoka hit something hard, falling backward into the puddle she had just been sprinting through._

_Terrified, she scrambled up._

_Had the Trandoshans found her already?_

_But to her relief, it wasn’t a Trandoshan. A graying man, deep tan skin coated in kind wrinkles that seemed new, with one eye brutally scarred over, reached out to steady her._

_“Careful, young one,” he said kindly, voice deep and rumbling. He studied her terrified face and frowned. He searched her eyes before dragging his vision away from the terrified, drenched girl in front of him to scan the street behind her, eye darting quickly back and forth._

_He seemed to grasp that something was wrong, because he took her gently by the arm and said, “Come. This way, child.”_

_Ahsoka, heart still thundering in her chest, pulse in her throat, and rain blurring her vision as she gasped for breath, allowed herself to be dragged away into a new, unfamiliar building._

_He closed the door behind him, and Ahsoka took in the unfamiliar terrain. It was a bar; a saloon — or, as many called it, an underground._

_It looked to be closed at the moment, as it was empty, but the one-eyed man quickly gestured to the counter. “Behind there, young one. Stay down.”_

_Ahsoka, shivering from the rain, had followed his instructions. Not a moment later and the sound of crashing footsteps and cursing voices had drowned out the staccato of the rain, and the group of Trandoshans that had attempted to mug her [until she had stabbed one in the arm with a knife] ran past, hunting her._

_Her pulse thundered in her ears through the rush of blood as the adrenaline overloaded her system. She was trembling -- but whether from the cold or adrenaline, she couldn’t be sure._

_She slouched lower behind the bar counter, hugging herself as her eyes fixed intently on the label to a bottle of alcohol she didn’t recognize._

_A few heart-stopping moments later, and Jackar appeared in front of her, a kind look on his lined face._

_“Come, child. You are safe now,” he told her._

_Ahsoka met his one eye, iris swirling dark and warm and kind. “Thank you,” she whispered._

_He gave her a kind smile, and despite her soaked stature, Ahsoka felt a little warmer.)_

Ahsoka studied Skywalker. This one couldn’t hurt (she hoped), and she really did want to get out of here. 

“I… knew Jackar,” she told him hesitantly. He leaned forward in his seat. Ahsoka swallowed. “He was… kind to me… saved me from getting jumped once; fed me a few times; gave me a place to crash once in a while,” she admitted. “I… well, I’m sorry that he died. He didn’t deserve to.”

Her eyes felt oddly hot, and the only thing she could see was the crimson stain and the white fragments of his skull bleeding red as she hit the floor. She inhaled sharply and turned her gaze away from Skywalker’s piercing stare. 

He was silent for a few moments, watching her, and when she finally turned to look at him again, his eyes had softened a fraction -- (now more of a rough sea-storm instead of the usual tsunami). 

“I knew him, too.”

Ahsoka glanced up, surprised by his admission. _What does a hotshot detective like brown-haired, blue-eyed Skywalker have in common with a southsider like Jackar Bowmani?_ She must have looked suspicious, because Skywalker continued. 

“He was the same when I was a kid,” he told her, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Kind; always willing to help out a street-rat.” He shrugged. “Though, when I was a kid he had two eyes.” He gave her a smile. And suddenly the wildness in his bright eyes made a lot more sense.

Ahsoka studied him with a newfound interest. “You’re from the streets,” she decided, leaning forward, intrigued. “I knew it.”

Skywalker raised a brow. He looked liberally amused. “Did you, now?”

Ahsoka tilted her head. “You’ve got the eyes. That’s how I could tell.”

Skywalker smirked. “Well, the eyes are the windows to the soul, I guess.”

Before Ahsoka could respond, Skywalker was right back to business with a tilt of his head and a raise of his eyebrows.

“What about Letta Turmond?”

Ahsoka scowled. 

( _Jackar had brought her a towel, bundled her up in it, and set a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of her._

_Her teeth had stopped chattering a while ago, and Ahsoka was beyond thankful for the warmth._

_“Thank you,” she said, like she had been repeatedly saying for the past half-hour. Though this time she added onto it. “What can I do to repay you?”_

_Jackar’s large hands closed around her small ones, gripping her mug. “You can stay warm, child. That is all.”_

_Ahsoka studied him. She was a little unsure what to do now. Nobody was nice unless they wanted something out of it -- but Jackar hadn’t asked for anything in return, and it was making Ahsoka nervous; uneasy. Surely there was an endgame, if not a debt to repay to hang over her head._

_Jackar patted her hands twice before withdrawing. “You must have someplace to be, young one. I will get you a change of clothes. Wait here.”_

_Ahsoka had nodded mutely, watching his retreating figure as it slipped away up the staircase._

_She turned her attention away from the stairs and to the rest of the room. A few booths adorned the walls, and behind the counter hung a framed photo of what looked to be a two-eyed Jackar, and another tan skinned woman with dark hair and a severe face._

_As she was studying it, the sound of the door opening again made her jump._

_The Trandoshans! They must have found her!_

_She whipped around in her seat, towel falling from her shoulders as she leapt up -- but it seemed there was no need. The woman from the picture had made an appearance._

_She dropped her bag by the door, staring at Ahsoka._

_“What are you doing here?” she demanded, harsh accent and vehement voice, such a stark contrast to Jackar that it sent Ahsoka reeling. “Are you another one of my husband’s charity projects?”_

_Ahsoka took a step back, bumping into the counter._

_“Out, street-rat! Out at once! I am not a charity. Out!”_

_Now Ahsoka knew why Jackar hadn’t asked for anything in return; dealing with this woman must have made up the debt. [And although oddly comforted that she didn’t owe as much, the woman still made her heart race]._

_“Out, I said!” she shrieked, throwing her hat in Ahsoka’s direction -- and Ahsoka scrambled to the door as the woman grabbed a broom from beside where she had dropped her bag. The spiky bristles and metallic pole of the utility beat against Ahsoka’s rain-soaked back, and she let the rain envelope her once more in the closest she knew she would be getting to a hug._

_“Begone, street-rat! Out!”_

_But Ahsoka was already gone; the taste of warm chocolate and welcoming hands evaporating into the pounding staccato of the rain.)_

“That woman is a witch,” Ahsoka snapped, more vehemently than she intended. 

Skywalker raised an eyebrow. “I see she hasn’t changed much, then,” he said, a hint of derisive humor in his tone.

“If by ‘ _hasn’t changed much,_ ’ you mean she used to beat people out of her bar with a broom, then yeah,” Ahsoka spit bitterly, “she hasn’t changed at _all_.”

Skywalker snorted. “Me and that broom became rather acquainted, I’d say.”

Ahsoka felt her own lips begin to quirk up before she fought it down. _Remember why you’re here, Tano!_

She let out a breath, shook her head. “I know what you mean,” she agreed.

Skywalker studied her, before abruptly moving forward. Standing, he collected the plethora of manilla folders scattered about the table; none of which had been used. (She vaguely wondered why, but dismissed it; he seemed like the kind of person to change plans abruptly -- he probably had come up with that stupid little game of true or false on the spot. Speaking of…)

“Hey!” She called out as he finished ordering the files. “Can I go now? I played your stupid game.”

Skywalker looked at her, brows raised. “Not so fast, Snips. You only got four out of five.”

Ahsoka blinked. “Five out of five! The last one about Letta Turmond counts as one, so that’s five,” she protested stubbornly. 

Skywalker studied her, before finally saying, “Nah, ‘cause that wasn’t a true or false,” he told her. 

Ahsoka let out an undignified noise of protest. “But you only said five _questions_ ! Not five _‘true or false’_ questions!” she pointed out. “Now let me out!” She snapped.

Despite her proof against him, Skywalker looked delighted. His mouth twitched up into a slow, genuine smile, (albeit a crooked one), and he shook his head, turning to the door. 

Ahsoka glared at his back as he reached for the doorknob, beyond annoyed that she had been cheated. 

His hand stopped on the handle, and he turned his head slightly to look at her over his shoulder, intense blue eyes dancing. 

“You know,” he said, and Ahsoka wrinkled her nose. “You’d make a great detective, Snips.” 

And with one last smirk, he was gone, leaving Ahsoka to stare incredulously at the closed door in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed big bro rex :)


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